Tarantella

Sunset
hiding star
all your light
is fading away

Noon
orange dye
wind blows apart
some withered leaves

Moon
you are
a shinning star
light of sky

Night
quiet force
keeper of secrets
and forbbiden kisses

Formerly Known III

Days, months and years have flown, like water streaming furiously from the mountains to the sea. I sit in front of the cold window at the side of my bed, rain washes the crystals everyday and nutures the trees in the backyard.

I've been resting here since the great fall, the one that withered all forms of vegetation from Veldran, my city. A brown, red and yellow carpet was omnipresent in roads and sidewalks, crushed by the naive peasents in their morning walks.

I swing my chair while I hear the water symphony outside, I could say I understand Haendel's mind but not his heart. No one's heart. You can be in somebody shoes and try to think like them and given the proper background you could, but to feel like somebody else, that is nonsense.

A robin lands on my window and starts hitting with its beck the glass, I stand up slowly and walk to it step by step, one at a time, and open the road to my solitude. The robin glides to the shelves where I keep my books and stares at me.

Celebrate! One is life, one and mine!
Run in meadows, talk with flowers!
Rest at the shadows of forgotten trees!
They cast shelter for the wise and meek.

Kiss those lying lips!
Be reborn, be baptized!
The ashes of past,
Will mix with the land.

Life follows the aging time!

Lose yourself, we are not
You are the universe, the rose and the stone
Calm winds, kind, gentle God
Left without shields at all times prone.

Thus said the little bird into my head. And I sit down again, and continued swinging my chair.

The will of violence

I was hit by some news this morning, a friend's brother and a friend of him were violently attacked in a bar, both of them had to go to the hospital with several injuries, they where left unconcious to their fate in the floor of the place. There were 7 against 2, seven football players of my "Alma Matter" against to 20 years old boys.

I don't think is fair, do you?

If you want to kill somebody, to unleash all the anger that spreads in all your body it is ok, but do it by yourself, be a man. Even against enemies there must be etiquette, elegance, pride and must of all, Honor.

It is not honorable to beat to death a boy, it is not honorable to fight many against one. It is not fair to kick a living corpse, an enemy that is already slain and about to die. It is fault of this society that doesn't know what is right, what is wrong. That is the problem with relativism... everything is grey, clear grey or dark grey, but you can't completely say black or white or you will be seen as dumb and conservative to the point of stupidity.

Things are black and white, learn to see the line. Bad is bad, good is good there's in no need for new words like "badong" or "gudnab", good and bad where meant to be absolute not relative... To who you might say? To everyone I may answer.

Who is who to tell? - You are to tell. - Why me? - Who else?

We try to skip the responsability of our own judgment and actions, relaying on other people to lean on our opinions. We tend to justify whatever we want (to want is not to think) based on a volatile and ambiguous morality that accepts everything as deppending on something else, light is light only compared to shadow, but could be darkess compared with a brighter light.

Anything goes... that is the cause of all modern problems. Strict morallity? the cause of all the old ones...

This people, this college heroes, are nothing but scum, this are our future role models, as many politicians, actors, and people that have sold their souls like harlots.

I dispice them... And I wish somehow I could bring some justice to this corrupted world.

A glimpse

I lay on my bed just by the window recovering from last night (a night of women, alcohol and music), I turn my head and see this glorious aura, the sun was covered by a nearby building's roof, but the halo surrounding it was visible, clear, perfect. I watch mesmerized.

It is just so beautiful.

Formerly Known II

- Overcome this pain you suffer, the cure you seek is just faith. Embrace your God even against you will, against you doubt... Praised well are those who go beyond their limited logic, their superfluous minds and turn their faces to the light that never fades.

A tall building shrouded in night stands at the top of the hill, many travellers gather here when the lighting storms strike with anger the woods. They find shelter and a place to sleep. A great gate waits in front of the dusty road, taller than three men, wider than a The King's Chariot.

Inside a gallery decorates the entrance hall, paintings of epic battles, legendary heroes and their armies in the battles that made them famous and eternal. The monks, "The order of the Sacred Fire" is known for both, their great mastery with the brush and with the sword.

A crying moan is heard across the cold air that fills this shrine, followed by some rhythmic yet chaotic chant.

- Om medere! tao mits tedem, hill hiaw sur tedem! Sang a monk with frantic agitation.

- Om medere! trial gut nuodem, hill hiaw mits tedem! Answered the rest at once.

Those words were written in golden scripture all along the walls. A kind monk, the one that opened the gates when I was calling, translated them to me.

- God burn! Your mighty flame, your will is the brightest sun!

- God burn! Embrace our hearts, your will is the only sun!

I heard each and every word very surprised of hearing an Hymn to the sun, knowing from local lore that this were people of the night, that darkness filled every corner of this magnificent construction.

- My son, don't be stubborn. Do as I say. You have no choice.

- Don't bother asking again, you already know how my heart works.

I fell asleep, wondering about this strange place that summons travellers hiding them in mist.

Practical Discussions I

We can unveil it if we are certain and compromised to do it, reality. Not just as a mental exercise or a philosophical novelty but as a final statement of human life which is in my opinion (oh dreaded opinions... the cause of all trouble in human kind) the most significant approach we could have. My first point of view (in a much reduced yet very broad sense) is that everything is reality; there is not such thing as fantasy, lies or illusions. This might at least cause many of you a sense of negation, discomfort or if I am lucky (sometimes I am) maybe a bit of interest. Infinite universes with thousand suns unfold in an imagination not able to grasp the true meaning of this. We think and we base our life in that thinking. "I think therefore I am" is a quote that has for many centuries now, limited the concept of what we can call life. According to this statement feelings are a by-process or sub-process of the thinking machine (we are our brains, and the body is a tool) emotions as well, and also perceptions that are received and transported by the senses to the brain. We have two realities, the one happening outside and the one inside.

But, have you ever wonder what a brain with no senses would be? What will happen to a healthy brain that happens to exist without those windows of perception? Would this grey mass turn to waste, or would it develop another structure of behaving and thinking? We know of its highly adaptable nature (like when people lose any sense, mainly the sight, the other senses start you behave more keen and accurate, sometimes claiming for themselves many actions usually related to the sense lost) which evolves with the circumstances. ESP? Perhaps but not likely, I do not want to discuss something not yet proved (I know neither disapproved) scientifically; that is one reason, the other one is my knowledge in my subject is far from good.

We make divisions because we think we are divided, thus our reality is divide because as I stated previously we live what we think (this from some time on has become a present dogma not just in psychology but also modern physics) .

Everything is reality just because we are able to speak of it, think of it. We are or at least we have a degree of identification with our thoughts that makes us live what we think, thus we think what we live, our life is our thoughts, bad thoughts bad life.

I know there is no clear order in writing (chaotic thoughts), but well imagine my life.

Formerly Known I

- My name shall echo in your soul for the rest of your life. Dark light will cast the blackest shadows running, following you by your side, in a fiery attempt to strike your heart and grasp its roots deep within. You'll grow weary, weak, pale as a ghost striving to exist, eager to die.

The sword reached the shed, a long, silvery, sparkling gaze of a blade used to bath in red. Kryad Naid, Koriuga Naid, "Living sword, thirsty sword".

The time stopped still, the birds stood immobile awaiting the revival of the mystic flow, machinery more ancient than Gods. Bringer of doom, father of chaos, son of eternity and in itself the essence of life. It froze and with it the whole, portraying and sketching the new come, the new world.

- This charade, the whole cosmic joke guards the last laugh. You my mighty friend are just a slave; of yourself and others... you serve too many masters. Power is but a mere illusion of hope, with some true skill, it must be said... but not yours, no of course not, it is your sword's. And when it quenches its thirst drowned in warm blood, the wind will fly with your mastery to nevermore.

- Stand unworthy revenant and show your face. Tricky is the fate that slowly unfolds itself. If you are that angel of mercy, the bearer of the 7th mark, unleash divine fury not those words, that gibberish. Drop by drop the drizzle runs through the trees, as this clear spot surrounded by forest watches the scene.

They stared at each other, with the rain running down their faces. Both with one hand in the scabbard and the other in the grip, unable to move, to anticipate... Just the wind blowing was heard and a distant cry from a frog. Pines were whistling in frenzy, ready to drink the blood of angels.

Kryor dared to blink.

Jhool took advantage.

Twenty three feet between them disappeared in a moment, as if never there. Jhool sword was already unsheathed and swung with a rapid movement from right to left. His sword was far longer than Kryor's and he took advantage of this, four feet from one another. His sword, the others chest in deep communion were one in for an instant. Kryor's face was paled and his mouth seemed strange trying to utter a word. He was untouched... still something was missing.

Freedom

Freedom is only achieved anonymously. It's a quiet state of being in which you start listening to your own voice. No one knows, for no one is you; you need to stare at your insight and believe in that tiny little sound, in fact it's a scream silenced by yourself. Claim freedom but do not advertise, if you are bound to fame, it’s another servitude, another slavery.

It is also achieved by the outer way (being the previous one the inner) because you live in a world, a community made by you and others, yours is a responsibility to this communal living for everything is previously planned and highly structured. You fear of underachieving or leaving the mainstream. You know leaving it's forgoing your surrounds, your protective shield against everything that is or could be. What is? you don't know but it's surely scary or not worth clinging to this idea and possible mischief.

Some might say they are out or never have been in. I am not one to tell for I am not them and cannot know they only can. But since "I" is my personal experience, also is my personal dogma to which I adhere in which I drown. So in order to fantasise about reaching farther and faster... not than anyone, beyond myself I create this, an escape either false or true. Liberation, as far as I am concerned that is all that matters.

Trying... well no trying to try is worthless, reaching, achieving.

Carlo Tussi